LoZshots
by Cherry Burlesque
Summary: A collection of disconnected oneshots written for various prompts on tumblr. Contains multiple/various pairings from different game verses, including Shink, Zelink, Ghiralink and Zelimpa. Information about each oneshot is posted at the beginning of ever chapter. See first chapter for more information.
1. Waking

**STORY INFO.**

_I started taking prompts on my tumblr for oneshots. This is a collection of the written ones thus far. The beginning of each chapter will feature the original prompt, the verse it resides in, characters, pairings and necessary warnings. All stories are written in different POV and tense depending on what worked for that particular piece. Feel free to send me a prompt of your own if you like, via review, PM or at my tumblr: sheikofthesheikah. _

* * *

**Waking.**

**Prompt: **OOT/Link's reaction to his body's changes after he wakes up as an adult.

**Verse:** OOT.

**Characters: **Link, Sheik, Navi.

**Pairing: **Shink, if you squint really hard.

**Warnings:** None.

* * *

I can't see. I think.

I mean, I can see, because there's colours and stuff, but I can't make out what it is I'm seeing. So I guess I can't really see.

Oh wow, my head is a mess.

I try and focus my gaze, squinting a bit in the light. It's grey, sort of muted out. And then I realise I should probably focus on what I've just been told.

Apparently, I'm old. Well, old_er_. But it still seems old. The sage, Rauru his name was I think (memory is fuzzy), said I've been asleep for seven years. But that seriously can't be right. It only feels like a couple of minutes ago that I opened the Door.

I'm staring into space like an idiot. The muted grey colours have solidified and I'm now standing in what is clearly the Temple of Time. It doesn't look any different.

"Have seven years really passed?" Navi settles on my shoulder, and I shrug.

It's the first movement I've really made since I apparently woke up in the sacred realm, and I notice for the first time how very, very high up I am.

Except my feet are still on the ground.

I stare down at my feet, wondering if they're _actually_ mine. They look way too big. And then I lift my hands up to stare at them, trying not to freak out.

They're covered in a set of gloves I don't remember putting on (or even _owning_, for that matter), but they still look like they'd swallow Navi up in one swipe. As if to illustrate my point, she flutters down to perch on a knuckle, and I recall how just yester—no, how seven years ago she was probably the size of my fist.

Now she's tiny.

"I've been waiting for you, Hero of Time."

The voice comes from behind me, and I'm pretty sure I look like a complete idiot as I turn and flail. I was aiming for a quick twist so I could face the stranger with my sword drawn, but apparently my balance is off.

So instead of looking like a seasoned warrior, I end up landing flat on my butt with my too big hands splayed out on the floor behind me.

"Who are y—" I mean to ask the stranger his name, but my voice stops me in my tracks. It's the first time I've spoken since waking up, and the sound freaks me out.

I drag a giant hand to my throat, as though holding it will fix the strange problem, and when I swallow I feel something move against the palm of my hand. It freaks me out even more.

"Relax," the stranger says, coming to sit beside me. "This must be a shock for you."

I'm quiet for a second, before I finally gather my wits and am able to speak.

In a mighty whisper.

"What's going on? What's wrong with me?"

The stranger places a hand on my shoulder, and I tense. But Navi hasn't given me any warnings of alarm, so I guess he's okay.

"Nothing is wrong with you," he says, and I stare at my gigantic boots. "You've grown up. Your body has changed while you have been asleep."

I continue staring.

"It seems like it's a bit of a shock."

Stare.

"But you're perfectly healthy."

Stare, stare.

"It's just a shame that you were unable to go through this normally."

Mighty staring.

The stranger sighs, obviously growing impatient with my state of shock.

"Hero," he says, the title jolting me from my reverie. "This is undoubtedly a lot to take in, but you must focus for a moment. Can you give me that?"

I swallow, feeling that gross moving thing in my throat again, and nod.

He seems satisfied, and goes off on a spiel about saving the world and five temples. Five sages, yada yada.

Suddenly I feel childish for not listening to him properly.

I try to focus, but it's hard. I feel too big for myself. I feel like I'm miles off the ground and like I have no balance. My hair is hanging annoyingly in my eyes, and my feet feel like two great clubs hanging off the end of legs that shouldn't be as long as they are.

I think I'm having an identity crisis.

"Hero."

The disapproving voice halts me again, and I shake my head.

"Sorry," I say, in my alien voice. "I just…this is all really hard."

"Unfortunately, it is your fate. The sages depend—"

"No, not the sages," I interrupt impatiently. "That's easy, I don't care about that. I'm talking about _this_." I wave my hands emphatically, gesturing at myself. "This feels so wrong. I'm too big, I feel like I couldn't even walk without falling over. I've got this thing in my throat that moves and I sound like a goron!"

The stranger, Sheik (see, I was listening a bit), gives a gentle laugh.

"It would seem that you have some adjusting to do," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder again. "Come with me to Kakariko. I can teach you about your new body."

I pause, looking up at Navi for guidance. She just shrugs, which I take to mean a 'yeah', so I nod.

"Okay," my goron voice says (it sounds WAY too loud in my ears). "I probably need to learn how to fight again too."

Sheik nods, and on standing he extends a hand to help me up.

I fall over three more times before we're out of the temple.


	2. Wretched

**Wretched.**

**Prompt: **SS Impa/Zelda hurt/comfort.

**Verse:** Skyward Sword.

**Characters: **Zelda, Impa.

**Pairing: **Zelimpa, sort of.

**Warnings:** None.

* * *

Zelda doesn't recall having ever felt worse in her entire life.

Her mortal life, that is.

It's certainly easy to make decisions and play the chessboard when you're an immortal entity with nothing but the survival of all creation at stake. But when you're just a girl who has grown up in a peaceful village with only a tiny community, you learn an entirely new perspective.

And Zelda isn't entirely sure she can forgive herself for this.

It isn't until she is through the gate safely and Impa has shattered the entire structure that it hits her. What she's done, who she has played, the consequences of her actions in this world.

Link.

Her best friend; the most gentle soul she's ever known, hurled into a nightmare that she herself orchestrated. And all for her own gain.

"No," Impa says in her stern voice, "you did it for us all, Your Grace."

But Zelda can't see that through the gravity of her guilt.

"I _knew_, before I became mortal, that when the Hero came along he'd do anything for his friends…" she practically moans in regret at the spoken words. "He was just a pawn to me then…just a tool in my game to win…"

Her face is wet, and it isn't until she wipes her nose in a most un-goddess-like way on the sleeves of her dress that she realises she's crying.

"I never expected this," she whispers, staring at the shattered remains of the gate.

Here, in the ancient past, the desert is no longer a desert. It's a thriving little metropolis of mines and life forms, all buzzing around cheerfully as they mind their own business.

Perhaps it was easy for the Goddess…_for me,_ Zelda corrects herself…to see these beings as disposable. After all, a human life is just a blink to an immortal being. She probably didn't even think of what it would seem to a mortal one.

"Your Grace," Impa says, interrupting the guilt ridden reverie with a hand on Zelda's shoulder. "We must return to the Sealed Grounds. It will take us some time, and we must be there before the Hero reconstructs the remaining Gate."

Zelda is quiet for a few seconds, staring out at the lush greenery of Lanayru.

"Impa," she whispers, "how am I any better than Demise?"

Impa doesn't respond, but Zelda can practically feel the shock and horror radiating from her guardian.

"He spent the entire time using others for his advantage. That Demon Lord, most of all. How is he, though in pursuit of me, any different from Link?"

"He is evil—," Impa starts, but Zelda cuts her off with a shake of her head.

"To him, he is not," she says softly. "He is just like Link, in a way. Doing what he is told because he is commanded to. Regardless of the lives impacted upon along the way, he is just following the orders of a higher being."

Her wide, blue eyes turn to gaze imporingly up at the Sheikah, and Impa can see the tears gathered there.

"Can you even tell which of them I am talking about, when I phrase it so?" She asks quietly, the tears spilling over. "How can I call myself benevolent, when I so willingly tear apart the lives of my best friends?"

Impa stands there for a moment, clearly unsure how to proceed. Of all the things she expected of her Goddess upon her return, she never anticipated this.

"Your Grace…"

She kneels before her charge, trying to see the girl as just that—a young girl caught in a web she didn't know had been woven.

"Zelda," Impa takes one hand and places it over Zelda's, meeting her eyes with sincerity. "I may not have known your divine will before you cast your immortality aside, but I have faith that you considered the consequences and decided that it was the kindest course of action."

Zelda shudders slightly, making Impa wince internally.

That's obviously not working.

So she tries again.

"Listen to me," she says, letting a gentle tone seep into her voice. "Your Link is an exceptional young man. I don't doubt that, even if you weren't thrust into this fate before you, and even if he _had_ had a choice, he'd have followed you anyway. I was harsh on him before," she closes her eyes, slightly ashamed of herself, "but he is not a coward. He knows what must be done, and I don't doubt that he is doing it for us all, not just because he is told."

She smiles slightly at the slight upturn of Zelda's lips.

"You're right," she says softly.

"He knows what's at stake," Impa continues. "It's not just your life that is in danger. It is the life of every living thing on this world. And he will do everything he can to stop it, simply because he will not let the world fall into the hands of evil."

Zelda nods, and lifts her eyes to the sky, heaving out a long heavy sigh.

"I still feel so wretched for turning him into a weapon like I have," she says softly.

"He will forgive you." The conviction is so strong that even Zelda believes it. "If you must, you can tell him of this and apologise to him when you see him again at the Temple. But we must arrive there before him so you are prepared."

After a moments silence, Zelda nods again and stands, brushing the dust from the future desert off her dress.

And then she turns to Impa, wrapping her arms around her lithe frame. Impa seems surprised, but she returns the gesture, before leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Zelda's forehead.

"Come," she says, taking Zelda's small hand in her own. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Alright," Zelda says, feeling somewhat better. "Let's go to the Temple."


	3. Waiting

**Waiting.**

**Prompt: **Angsty Malink

**Verse: **OOT

**Characters: **Malon, Link

**Pairing: **Malink

**Warnings:** Sexual references.

* * *

For most of her life, her time was dedicated to waiting.

When she first met him, she was waiting for her father to return from the castle.

When her father returned and took her back to the Ranch, mumbling apologies that made her giggle, she waited for the day that the tension between her father and Ingo would boil over.

She waited for her fathers mare to give birth to a foal that would be her very own. She waited for the foal to grow old enough that she could begin befriending it. A friend of her very own.

When she saw him again, she was out in the field, singing to her best friend. She waited for him to learn her song, and when her best friend decided she liked the boy, she decided she'd wait for him too.

When the world turned dark and nothing was safe anymore, she waited, knowing that he'd come back for her and free her of the hell she'd been through.

She waited for seven whole years.

He returned and freed her best friend, and liberated the ranch of the tyranny that befell it in the wake of the usurper king. She asked him to stay with her, but was denied. He told her that he had a job to do, and that when he was done, he'd bring back the horse and stay with her on the ranch.

When he returned from Kakariko after the fire that razed the village, he was horribly injured. She'd waited for weeks, but that was nothing.

She nursed him back to health, soothing his wounds and his nightmares, waiting for him to gain strength enough to carry on with his task.

She waited for the strength to tell him how she felt, and when it came, she could see how torn he was. So she asked him for a night together, where they could forget the world and its troubles and just enjoy each other. He agreed.

It was the best night of her life.

And when he left again, she waited for him to come back.

When she realised she was three weeks late for her monthly bleed, she didn't know what to do. She waited for advice from the goddesses; for some kind of guidance that would set her on the right path. She waited for her father to throw her out for being with child out of wedlock, but that never came.

She would never forget the look of happiness on her fathers face when she revealed who it was she had given herself to.

Over the course of the following months, she began to wait for the signs of life within her. They steadily grew, and she sang to the child, telling him (for she had always dreamed for a boy) stories of his father.

As she watched the great races of Hyrule regain their feet one by one, she waited for the end of the war.

When it came, and celebrations were held all over the kingdom, she travelled to Castle Town where the biggest party was held. There, she waited for him to be presented to the people.

He wasn't.

So she returned to the ranch, where he knew she would always be.

Waiting for her child came to its end. He was born during the Winter after the Liberation. She sent word to the castle, hoping to find him there. She waited for a letter back, but when it came, it was a note in elegant handwriting, saying nothing but three words.

_He has left._

She never believed that. He had to know, deep down, that his son was now waiting for him too. He would never leave without seeing her first.

When her horse was returned to her, she wept.

And for all the years she lived, watching her son grow with sandy blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes, she never gave up waiting for him.

But she never saw him again.


	4. Downtime

**Downtime.**

**Prompt: **Some cute, fluffy Shink.

**Verse:** OOT.

**Characters: **Sheik, Link.

**Pairing: **Shink.

**Warnings: **Mild sexual references.

* * *

_"_Get up, Hero."

Link groaned at the title, turning his head slightly to give a dishevelled glare at the pair of feet in front of his face.

"It's past sunrise. We have to move on if we want to reach the border before noon."

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that."

A pause.

And then the one of the feet he could see deftly nudged his forehead.

"Get up, Link."

Amusement laced the words, and with an exasperated sigh, Link sat up, rubbing his eyes and letting out an obnoxiously loud yawn.

"I thought all this 'rise with the sun' crap was over with when I finished my job," he said grumpily, sliding out of his bedroll to trudge over to the cooling embers of the fire. There, he picked up one of the sticks that had some kind of dead animal skewered to the end.

A soft laugh followed these words, and Sheik sat down beside him, a handful of the various wraps and cloth in his lap.

"It was, until you decided you needed to travel some more. You might be the Hero of Time, but it still applies to you."

Link gave him a sidelong, half hearted glare as Sheik began deftly wrapping his arms and fingers.

"Smartass."

Sheik just grinned through his cowl, not at all concerned with the mouthy language coming from his partner. Link was always, without fail, exceedingly irritable when he woke up. It usually passed after he had something to eat.

Sometimes, Sheik was positive that Link's entire emotional state revolved around food and sleep.

He focused on tying off the wraps around his fingers, when a warm nudge broke him from the reverie.

"Hey," Link's voice was soft. "What do you think we'll find when we get back to Hyrule?"

Sheik paused, and gazed off in the direction where the sun was steadly rising. "I don't know," he replied. "It's been three years. Zelda is probably Queen now; I'd heard that she finally found a suitable man to wed."

They both chuckled good naturedly. It would have taken a very unique man to catch the Princess's eye, and an incredibly brave one to continue to court her until she accepted his hand.

"She's going to badger your ear off," Link said cheerfully. "Try to make you her Queensguard again. And I'll be laughing every time she brings it up."

"She's going to try and make you General," Sheik shot back. "And I'm not going to leap to your defence again."

They laughed, comfortable silence falling between them as Link finished off his breakfast and moved to collect his clothes.

"Come for a swim with me?" There was a playful gleam in Link's eyes when Sheik turned to meet them, and he gave a huff of annoyance.

"I just finished dressing."

"Yeah, but I'm an expert at getting those clothes off, aren't I?"

Sheik couldn't help it. He flushed. "Yes, but you're atrocious at putting them back on. And that will delay us even further."

"Whine, whine," Link waved him off, and gathered his clothes in a heap to trudge down to the nearby stream.

Sheik sighed, and turned back to the remains of the fire. On force of habit, he pulled out one of his knives and began sharpening it deftly, waiting for Link to finish.

It was probably only about five minutes later that he realised he hadn't heard the telltale splash of water that signified Link's divebomb.

Sheik straightened, and as soon as he did, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around his arms, before he found himself thrown over Link's shoulder.

"Put me DOWN!"

"Nope! You're coming for a swim!"

"Since when did you become so quiet anyway? Put me _down _or by the _three_ you are going to regret it!"

"Since I spent five years hanging around a Sheikah!" Link cackled gleefully.

Sheik struggled hard, but he'd been caught with his guard down. Link's grip was like iron, and try as he might, he couldn't get free.

Link laughed, and Sheik cursed and shouted, all the way down to the stream.

"Timber!"

And Link lobbed his Sheikah, clothes and all, straight into the middle of the creek.


	5. Fading

_AN: Namesake: Yes, that was the intention! I got a whole lot of requests for angst and hurt/comfort, so I deliberately put the lighter chapter in the middle of it all as a bit of a breather. Keen eye you have! Thanks for following and reviewing!_

**Fading.**

**Prompt: **Ghiralink hurt/comfort.

**Verse:** Skyward Sword.

**Characters: **Ghirahim, Link.

**Pairing: **Mild Ghiralink

**Warnings:** None.

* * *

He'd lost track of time by the time he was found. It could have been hours. Weeks, months, years, he wouldn't have the slightest clue. Retaining a half object/half physical form has a tendency to do that.

He couldn't really recall where he was either. Undergrowth, probably, judging by the dampness. Not that he could feel it. The dirt just had that sticky looking quality it tended to gain when there was too much moisture in the air.

But he was tethered here until someone came to free him from his endless bind.

So Ghirahim let his mind haze over, and waited.

_Footsteps. Something coming closer. Some_one_ coming closer. The ground around him shifting._

_Daylight._

He probably looked a sight, Ghirahim mused internally as he tried to blink away the blinding light that filled his vision. Barely corporeal, stuck between his sword form and demon form. No mantle or clothes, just the black of obsidian working its way up until it encircled the diamond that still shone visibly from his chest.

Instinctively, he curled to protect it.

He heard an intake of breath, and hissed when a ghostly sensation of someone trying to touch him brushed through him. Not that he could really do much in this position. His sword was still entirely visible, a physical form underneath him, whereas he was just a half ghost thing.

"Ghirahim?"

Oh, that foolish boy. It was bad enough that he haunted Ghirahim's mind endlessly, but now he had to show up too? What sort of injustice was this?

"Save your breath, Sky Brat," he tried to sound dignified, but it came out as an embarrassingly weak sounding whine.

"You're hurt though, what happened to you?"

One dark eye opened to fix the hero with an icy glare.

"_You_ happened."

"Oh."

This was completely torturous. Here he was, stuck in a sickeningly vulnerable position, enduring the company of the very person he probably hated most in the world right now.

Well, maybe not quite hate.

Actually, no, it wasn't hate at all. It was something else that Ghirahim couldn't put his finger on.

"But you…what is happening to you now?" Was it him, or was there a hint of concern in the hero's voice?

Ghirahim snorted, and tried to move into a sitting position. He failed.

"I'm dying, I expect," he said, feeling somewhat better now that his voice had retained a smooth aloofness to it. "Unforeseen side effect of fleeing like a coward in order to escape the very same thing. How ironic."

"Dying?" Link peered over him. "But you're…not…Fi can't die, and you're the same as her, so why are you dying?"

"I am _not_ like that robot," Ghirahim spat. "I was bound to my weapon while I was a living, breathing entity. Therefore when that bond is severed, I die."

"But your sword is…"

"Will you stop asking questions!" It took far too much energy to simply raise his voice at that. He was finally beginning to fade.

Silence fell on them again, the only sound being Ghirahim's ragged, unnecessary breaths.

"Can I help?"

At this, Ghirahim couldn't help but let loose a snort of derision. How undignified. "I highly doubt you would be a willing participant of the only thing that can save me now."

"How do you know that?" The tone was challenging. It reminded him of the first time they had met in the Temple in the Forest. Link had openly challenged him, completely unaware of what he was getting himself into.

Well, they say history is doomed to repeat himself.

"The only way I can be spared," Ghirahim said coolly, "is by being bound to a new master."

Silence.

Thought so.

He was beginning to feel the first twinges of pain now, as his spirit slowly tore itself away from the physical form of the sword. His eyes were closed, not interested in seeing the pitying expression on Link's face.

There was a slight scuffing sound, and another ghostly touch along his shoulder.

"What would you do if I said I'd do it?"

Both of Ghirahim's mismatched eyes (one dark, reminiscent of his demon self, the other a completely stark white) shot open, and for the first time he managed to turn slightly to stare at the sky child with abject shock.

"My first question would be _why?"_

Link shrugged, staring at the ground in front of him. "We aren't that different. Sure, we were both working for the enemy, but neither of us had much choice. You were forced to by whatever bond you have with that sword and Demise, and I was led on a wild goose chase by circumstances outside my control. I thought about it a lot after I realised you disappeared before Demise was sealed. That's why I decided to come look for you."

For the first time in his entire existence, Ghirahim was speechless.

Link shrugged again. "It's your choice. You can either do what you have to do to save your own life, with me as a willing participant, or you can let yourself die here. Either way, I'll hang around."

Ghirahim closed his eyes, and weighed up his options.

The entire reason he had fled the battlefield when Demise went down was because he didn't want to die. And now here on the brink of death, redemption had come for him.

In the hands of the very human he had fought so hard to subdue for so long.

Perfect irony.

And so Ghirahim opened his eyes and an expression came to his face that he was certain had not been for millennia.

He smiled.


	6. Fate

**Fate.**

**Prompt: **Sheik's opinion (separate from Zelda, whether as a completely separate body or soul within Zelda, your choice) on Zelda's relationship with Link in an AU where Zelink is totally canon.**  
**

**Verse:** Post OOT.

**Characters: **Sheik, Zelda, Link.

**Pairing: **Zelink. Zesheik or Shink or Shezelink depending on how you want to interpret it.

**Warnings:** None.

* * *

_This is how it's meant to be._

Sheik tells himself this like a mantra, every time he lays eyes on the pair of them.

They are extremely formal, of course. Courting the Heir to the Throne is most definitely not a whirlwind affair. It takes time and patience, and a whole lot of piety on both their parts.

In public, they are only ever seen with her hand resting on the crook of his elbow. They share polite conversation, peppered with nothing but dull, hoity toity flowery language and matters that have absolutely nothing to do with ruling a kingdom.

In private, they are marginally less formal. He drops the Royal title, and she stops calling him 'Sir'. They talk about the affairs of the country, how it's recovering and other such things. Things sometimes become a bit more personal; they talk about her time in hiding, his time battling all manners of evil, and how he is coping with the confines of royal life.

It's usually during these moments that they allow themselves to give in to their instincts. They never go further than a tender kiss; that would cause a royal scandal. But Sheik knows the passion is there, simmering under the surface.

Neither of them give into it. They can't allow themselves to. She's far too indoctrinated into the behaviours of a Princess Regent, and he's just too noble.

How does Sheik know this?

Because he's always there. Never visible, unless he wants to be, but present nonetheless. He's her Royal Guardian now, with Impa ascended. As the last of the Sheikah, Zelda offered him the position as a token of her gratitude for his aid during the Seven Year War. As such, she is never out of his sight, save for when they are sleeping. Even then, he's never far away.

So he knows everything, and he knows they are both aware of it.

_This is how it's meant to be._

Of course, when the Hero defeated the evil that descended upon the land and freed the people of their enslavement, he was immediately offered all manner of riches and wealth. Most, he turned down, but the High Council had insisted on Knighting him, making him a noble and General of the shattered Hyrulian Army. From there, they began to hedge for an engagement between him and the Princess.

The public thoroughly approved of course. Who could possibly be a better match for the Princess of Light, than the Hero of Time himself?

Sheik couldn't help but agree. It was a perfect arrangement. They were to be wed in the summer in a public ceremony that the entire kingdom would be welcome to attend.

When either of them asked him about it, he simply nodded and gave a wan smile through his cowl.

"This is how it's meant to be," he'd reply in an even voice.

That didn't stop him from resenting it. Not because he thought they would be bad for each other, no, this was for entirely selfish reasons. But he schooled himself and shoved the emotions away, remaining stoic and dignified whenever he allowed himself to be seen.

In private, however, Sheik would find himself lamenting a loss he didn't know he could feel. It wasn't the same as when he had lost Impa; that had been a quick and expected outcome, and he was glad that she was in a position among the Sages. This was different. An ache deep in his heart that he rarely ever acknowledged.

On the outside, he remained calm. Even happy for the engaged couple when duty demanded it. He betrayed no sign of the inner turmoil that raged below the surface of his hardened exterior, and if he ever did allow it to flow through, he'd climb up to the tallest spire of the castle and hurl himself off.

The worst part of it all was, however, the fact that he could never figure out which of the two he was grieving the loss of.

_This is how it is meant to be._


	7. Pain

AN: _Whooo, I'm getting a lot of traffic here, but not much feedback. While I write mostly for my own entertainment, I do thoroughly enjoy hearing your feedback. I do realise most of these oneshots are angsty, but apparently my followers on tumblr love their Zelda angst. As always, I'm willing to take prompts from people here as well. Thanks for reading!_

**Pain.**

**Prompt: **Two words: Link and Pain.

**Verse:** Skyward Sword.

**Characters: **Link.

**Pairing: **None.

**Warnings:** None.

* * *

The Hero was used to pain. It came with the territory, the task he had to undertake. The pain of wounds sustained during battle; the pain of the scorching sun on on his skin as he trudged his way through the desert; pain suffered alongside tired muscles, fatigue and dehydration.

Even before he was chosen as the Goddess's hero, Link was used to pain. The bullies at the Knights Academy picked on his insecurities whenever they could, trying to hurt him for their own satisfaction.

Yes, physical and emotional pain was commonplace for Link these days.

But there was one form of pain he had never experienced before. Until now.

That of the soul. A hurt so deep and draining that he finds himself now struggling to place one foot in front of the other. Weariness and despair accompany this, making his vision cloud and his shield and sword seem suddenly very, very heavy.

It's not failure, he knows this. He knows he hasn't failed yet. There is still so much to do and there is still hope.

But right now he hurts too much to be able to think about it clearly.

This hurt is something that drags him down where he feels like no one will ever find him.

Because he had fought. He'd fought so hard, suffered so much pain in all of its forms almost to the brink of collapse for only one purpose. Save his best friend.

But then he had learned that he was only partly her friend. She had a bigger purpose to fulfil, something much greater than he could ever imagine in his dream-filled days in Skyloft. She'd admitted that she used him.

She hadn't even allowed him to give her a hug, if only to reassure himself that she was alright.

And then she'd asked more of him, and sealed herself away where she will remain until he succeeds.

It suddenly seems too big. Everything is too big. What if he fails? She'd be stuck inside that seal forever, until Demise claims her or the world fades to dust.

Too much. It hurts to think about.

Link exits the sealed temple with barely a word to Groose or the old lady, and finds himself on the edge of the pit where the Imprisoned stews. It's quiet here at the moment. No quacking ground, no immediate danger.

But he still has to carry on. Even though he feels like at the moment it hurts too much to do so. He has to.

Because at the very least, he made a promise to her father.

And Link had never been one for broken promises.


	8. Curiosity

**Curiosity.**

**Prompt: **Ghiralink gemplay.

**Verse:** Skyward Sword.

**Characters: **Link, Ghirahim.

**Pairing: **Ghiralink.

**Warnings:** Smut.

* * *

f the phrase 'give a man a fish, he'll feed for a day; teach a man to fish he will feed for a life time', had any iota of truth, this was probably it.

Actually, the phrase probably had a bit more truth if it was reworded slightly.

'Tell a man a kink, he'll be curious for a minute. Show a man your biggest E-Zone, he'll have you on your back faster than you can blink with the most wicked looking glint in his eyes that you have ever seen.'

Yes, that's marginally more accurate.

If you were to ask either of them how it came to this, one would probably flush a little and wave it off, and the other would go into a long winded rant about the first time they ever met, right through til now.

Not that that was important, really.

All that mattered was that, for the first time since being bound to Demise, Ghirahim found himself willingly submitting to the ministrations of another.

Since being bound to Link, who had saved him from certain death, Ghirahim had calmed somewhat. Sure, he still had his bouts of maniacal anger, but they were more often tantrums than not these days.

And as time wore on, the pair of them became closer.

And closer still.

Until they became as close as two living beings could get. Often.

On one occasion, Link had asked Ghirahim what he enjoyed. And without even thinking, he'd blurted it out in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

Of course, Link's never ceasing curiosity brought them to where they were.

Initially, Link had been nervous. He knew of the very weakness that single point in Ghirahim's body was privy to, but at the same time, it was a highly sensitive area, and he wanted to explore it.

So in a rare moment of dominance, Link had managed to subdue the demon and allow the large, sparkling diamond in his chest to appear with a partial transformation.

Instantly, Link had descended upon it, and was fascinated with the way it managed to reduce the demon to barely more than a gasping mess.

"Lie on your back." It was a command, and in Ghirahim's hazy state, he was in no mood to disobey.

From the new position, with Link straddling him, it was much easier for them to both gain satisfaction. Link was too short to be comfortable with Ghirahim on top of him, and with the positions reversed he found a blessed medium where their hips met and Ghirahim's chest was at mercy to Link's mouth.

"I'm not fragile," Ghirahim hissed through gritted teeth as Link trailed his tongue along the contours of the shining gem. "Stop being so soft."

Link glanced up, eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness. "I know," came the breathy reply. "I just like teasing you."

"Brat."

Link laughed quietly, and ran his fingers around the edges of the diamond, where the skin met the tough exterior of metal. With a curve, his fingernails dug deep, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from the demon beneath him. His other hand flicked it lightly, causing a shudder to run through the other, and the moan that followed was positively musical.

While Ghirahim was busy mumbling nonsense, Link lowered his mouth again, dragging his teeth along the sharp edges of the protrusion before following the motion with a swipe of his tongue.

He could feel the demon's need against his hips, matching his own (which delighted Link), and he rolled their hips together with a hum.

"Never…thought I'd see you such a bumbling mess, Demon Lord," Link managed between heavy breaths, and Ghirahim practically snarled in reply. It made him grin even more. "Who would have thought that the elegant, poised figure who followed me all over the land could make noises like this…" A flick to the gem, making Ghirahim groan, "and this," a bite, followed by a sharp intake of breath, "and _this,"_and he rolled their hips together as he rubbed his fingers around the outsides of the gem, mouth still upon it.

Ghirahim's back arched and his hands finally found purchase in Link's hair. He was too far gone to bother with a reply, so he simply let out a long, guttural moan that had Link jerking his hips against him again.

Their movements became almost frenzied, Ghirahim's nails digging into Link's shoulders, while Link brought one hand between them, grasping them together as he began to jerk roughly.

It didn't take long before Ghirahim reached his peak. Even with all of his experience, he'd never allowed someone to touch him this way, and the sparks of fire that shot up and down his nervous system with every touch to his chest had him jarring for climax within minutes.

He came with a sharp cry that neither of them had heard before, and Link followed soon after, delicious friction bringing him to the edge with nothing but a quiet hum.

His fingers still traced the diamond lightly, causing Ghirahim to shudder with overstimulation, and eventually he stopped, propping himself up on his elbows.

"That was fun," he said with a smugness that definitely gave away the boost to his ego.

"Brat." It was all Ghirahim could manage at the moment.

"We should do it again."

There was a pause, as Link pulled a clean towel off the end of the bed and cleaned them both off.

When he shifted so he could collapse on his back beside Ghirahim, there was a short grunt of mirth.

"I wholeheartedly agree, Sky Child."


	9. Aelethia Dhuvr'Niteth

**Prompt:** au sort of where there is still a sheikah tribe in kakariko and link or zelda (or both) are invited to celebrations where sheik performs.

**Verse: **OOT sort of. Not really any specific setting.

**Characters: **Sheik, Link, Zelda, inconsequential OC's.

**Pairing: **Shink.

**Warnings: **None.

* * *

"Nervous?"

Link glanced across the dimly lit carriage, catching sight of the knowing grin on Zelda's face.

"No," he said, trying to sound like he was telling the truth. "I'm excited. I've never been to a Sheikah festival before."

"Well, they're definitely something else," Zelda replied with a dreamy smile. "Hylian festivals are all about games and prizes and light shows. The Sheikah dedicate their entire celebrations to things like the seasons and goddesses. It's incredible. I'm so glad you were invited along this time."

Link grinned and nodded in agreement. "Are they all invitation only?"

"Only to those who are not members of the tribe or the Royal family."

"So which subject is this one celebrating?"

Zelda's eyes gleamed and he could see the mischievous look in her eyes even through the dim light. "The Goddess Farore."

Link paused, taking time to analyse her expression when she said that. She looked as though she knew something he didn't, and he had definitely learned in the past that such looks directed at him meant that he'd likely come across some kind of surprise.

And then it dawned on him.

"Oh thrice," he muttered, dropping his head into his hands. "They're going to make me a centrepiece, aren't they?"

Zelda laughed, clapping her hands in delight. "Of course they are! Farore is their patron goddess, and you are her chosen! They respect you as deeply as they do the Sisters themselves!"

Link groaned, wondering whether it'd be rude to jump out the carriage and flee. He hated being the centre of attention, and regardless of the fact that being invited to take part in a Sheikah festival was an honour in itself, this was no different.

"Oh stop moping," the Princess crowed. "Sheik specifically told me that he's been looking forward to seeing you there for months. Can't go disappointing him now, can you?"

Link bristled. The damned woman always knew how to make him feel guilty about his aversion to being put on display.

"Besides, chances are they'll only put on a dance in your honour or something. They won't make you get up and give a long speech about how heroic you are."

"That makes me feel _loads_ better. Why don't _you_ ever become the centrepiece for festivals?"

Zelda gave him a bland look, and Link grimaced. Stupid question. The princess was the centrepiece for most Hylian festivals, so his argument was null and void.

He sighed, trying to hide his trepidation at the whole thing while Zelda just smiled quietly.

x

To their credit, the Sheikah seemed to take into account Link's aversion to attention and praise. When they arrived at Kakariko, he was treated quite normally, if not a little reverently (which he would swallow for their sake). He and Zelda were both invited by an elderly woman to her home, where they discovered clothes for the occasion laid out for them. When asked, the lady informed them that Sheik (and probably Zelda, Link thought somewhat begrudgingly) had given her their measurements.

Link was surprised at the quality of the clothing they had given him. He'd half expected something ridiculously tight fitting and uncomfortable, but they'd given him clothes that he quite liked. The undershirt was plain white, but the coat that went over it was light (fitting for the warmer weather), and dyed a deep green. It was almost plain save for intricate embroidery around the collarless neck in gold and brown thread, and the symbol of Farore was emblazoned across the back between his shoulder blades. The coat was loose fitting and reached to just above his knees, where loose white pants completed the outfit. The lady had told him not to wear shoes, so he remained barefoot.

All in all, it looked quite exotic, and Link found himself admiring it.

When he stepped out of the room in which he'd changed, Zelda was already waiting. Her dress was of a pale blue, much more ornately decorated than his own. Her circlet settled on her brow, and her hair was wound in braids into a knot on top of her head.

"You look good," she said with a smile.

"It's definitely not what I was expecting," he replied, glancing down at the long, loose attire.

Zelda snorted. "Were you expecting something more akin to Sheik's choice in clothes?"

Link twisted his nose, and gave a half shrug. "Wouldn't have surprised me."

She laughed and shook her head good naturedly. "Come on, it's almost time for it to start."

"Wasn't Sheik going to meet us?"

Zelda gave him a knowing smile. "You'll see him soon enough."

x

By the time darkness had fallen, Link and Zelda had taken part in several rituals. They had gone to the Shadow Temple to pay respects to the dead, enjoyed a light meal of Sheikah cuisine and watched several young children be blessed by the Elder, among other things.

A roaring bonfire now burned in the centre of the village, the tribe and visitors all seated on cushions around it. Link didn't fail to notice that his spot was right next to the spiritual leader.

There was still no sign of Sheik.

Many of the rituals had been performed in the Sheikah language, which Zelda translated to common Hylian for him under her breath so he understood.

When most of the tribe had settled, a hush fell over them. Link glanced around to see what was going on, but his attention was diverted as the priestess beside him stood to address the people.

"_My brothers and sisters," _She said, Zelda's voice echoing quietly in his ear. "_Our divine Goddess Farore has tonight sent us an emissary to represent Her on this night. May She be pleased with our dedication to Her, and may Her emissary relay our humblest message of thanks for Her love and protection._"_  
_

"Are they talking about me?" Link whispered to Zelda.

"Yes," she replied. "Just be quiet and smile."

One by one, the Sheikah around the fire knelt forward, all murmuring the same prayer. Their hands extended in front of them, each turned upward towards Link.

"Go around the circle and press your hands into the palms of each person," Zelda instructed him.

Despite his absolute embarrassment at such a request, Link obeyed. Each time he did so, the Sheikah around him murmured quiet words which he recognised as reverent gratitude. By the time he was done, his face was flaming, and he sat rigidly beside Zelda trying not to look like a fool.

He hadn't failed to notice that Sheik was not among those around the circle.

"_With the Chosen of Farore's blessing, we now wish to express our deepest gratitude to he and our Divine Patron. Brothers and Sisters, the performers of the Aelethia Dhuvr'Niteth_."

"The what?" Link whispered as the Priestess sat down.

"It loosely means 'Goddess of the Land'," Zelda replied. "But it sounds a lot nicer in Sheikahn."

Link had to agree.

He turned his attention back to the bonfire, where a small troupe of musicians began to set up. Soft whispers filled the circle while the musicians settled.

Still no Sheik.

After a moment of hushed, anticipated silence, the music began.

The tune was lively and spirited, a mishmash of bongo drums, wooden flutes and lyres blending together to create a sound that radiated whatever emotion the musicians wanted to portray. It swept Link away with them, imagining the story they wanted to tell in his mind. He could feel Zelda swaying with the beat beside him, and the eyes of several of the tribe members on him to see his response, as though he would strike them all down if he was in any way displeased.

Link was so riveted to the musicians that he didn't notice the shadowed figures stepping into the circle until the light of the bonfire hit them.

Six Sheikah positioned themselves around the circle as the music faded to the quiet plucking of the lyre. Three men and three women, all dressed completely differently to what Link was accustomed to seeing.

The men were shirtless, dressed only in loose white pants. The women were similar, a long strip of fabric binding their chests while plain white headdresses fell over their hair and shoulders. All of them had intricate designs painted in red on almost every inch of exposed skin, right down to their bare feet. None of their faces were covered, which Zelda quietly explained signified their vulnerability in the view of the Goddess.

Link wasn't paying attention to her.

Standing right in front of him, dark eyes downcast as he held his position, was Sheik.

When the music picked up its tune again, it was quiet and melancholy, the weary tunes of the flute resonating in the firelight. The dancers moved silently around the circle, the story portrayed with long, sweeping movements of their arms and torsos. It sounded almost like a lament, and none of the dancers lifted their eyes from the ground in front of them.

Gradually, the pace picked up with the other instruments joining the flute, and the dancers began to move faster. The movement of their upper bodies was complemented with the long strides of their legs. As the tune lifted, the audience began to clap in unison with the beat.

Link was paying very little attention to the people around him. His eyes were anchored on Sheik, who moved with the grace and poise of a feline. The red markings covering his body stood out in the firelight, moving fluidly along his dark skin in patterns whose meaning was utterly lost on Link. When Sheik's face caught the light, Link could see his right eye painted with the insignia of the Sheikah, while the rest of his face was bare.

As the music began to reach a crescendo, so too did the dancers. Their fluid movements gave way to quick, halting manoeuvres, their bare feet stamping on the ground as they twisted, turned and spun. They all began to chant in time with the instruments, words that he didn't understand and Zelda didn't translate.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The dancers all stopped abruptly, on their knees with their arms raised skyward, and silence fell.

Link was staring like an idiot until Zelda's soft clapping broke him from his reverie. Swallowing, he joined in as one by one the other members of the audience began to shout praises at the performers.

The dancers rose, turned to Link and Zelda and bowed deeply, before they exited the circle without a single word. Link's eyes followed Sheik until he'd disappeared into the shadows.

"Link," Zelda whispered to him, her sharp elbow digging into his ribs. "They want you to say something."

Indeed, while the Sheikah in the circle still chanted and applauded, many of them were watching him with expectant eyes.

"What?" suddenly, Link felt panic start to bubble in his gut as he hissed back. "You told me I didn't—"

"Just say that Farore will be happy, alright? Shut up and do it!"

Link cleared his throat, causing silence to fall instantly. Thrice, he hated being the centre of attention.

"I…uh…" Smooth. He cleared his throat again, trying to gather his wits. "The Princess and I thank you all for inviting us to be part of your festival. I…" swallow, "The Goddess will surely be pleased by such a display of devotion."

The Sheikah applauded again, beaming at Link as he relaxed and exhaled heavily.

"Can we go now," he mumbled to Zelda, and she just smiled at him, gaining the attention of the tribe leader.

While they spoke, Link scanned the shadows for Sheik. He knew he was probably there somewhere, but the elusive prat was probably making himself very difficult to find.

Well, Link wasn't one to turn down a challenge. He grinned to himself at the idiotic thought.

Zelda touched his elbow, drawing Link's attention back to the Sheikah leader. She bid them both good night, and thanked Link profusely for his 'words from the Goddess'. He tried not to snort. As if the Goddess would ever make such a fool of herself like he had done.

"Come on," Zelda said, slipping her arm through Link's. "I sense you're impatient to find something. Or some_one_."

x

The festival carried on late into the night, and Link watched from the roof of Impa's old house. It was much easier to enjoy it when he wasn't actively there, and the music and dancers kept a permanent smile on his face.

They weren't the _Aelethia Dhuvr'Niteth__, _however. The first performers did not return to the party, and Link hadn't been able to find Sheik at all. He was a little disappointed, but remained content to watch the festivities from his vantage point until Sheik showed up.

"I thought you and the Princess had retired."

Speak of the devil.

Link turned, catching sight of him standing a few feet away. He was still wearing the clothes he'd performed in, and the markings seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the bonfire.

"I retired from public speaking. She went to bed."

Sheik gave a quiet laugh, and moved to settle beside him.

"I'm sorry you were surprised by the dedication to you," he said after a moment of peaceful silence. "But I assure you, it was much more subdued than the one they hold for Zelda."

"Zelda gets one too?"

"Two, actually," Sheik replied, gazing down at the party. "One as the Princess, and one as Nayru's chosen."

"Makes sense."

Sheik smiled faintly, and Link found his eyes stuck on the curve of his lips. Until now, he had never seen him without his cowl.

Link had to admit he preferred this appearance much more. Sheik's jaw was sharp and defined, and his neck arched gracefully until it met the tresses of his braided hair. His lips were thin but gentle, and high cheekbones accentuating the sharpness of his eyes.

"You didn't tell me you were going to perform. I was starting to think I'd been stood up."

Sheik laughed, shaking his head. "I wanted to surprise you. The _Aelethia Dhuvr'Niteth _is a sacred performance, and when I was chosen to be part of it I swore Zelda to secrecy."

The Sheikahn dialect sounded like music in Sheik's quiet voice. And somehow seeing his mouth form the words made them that much more beautiful.

"It was amazing," Link murmured, attention now solely on Sheik. "I've never seen anyone move like that. Although the impromptu speech at the end threw me off a bit."

Again, Sheik laughed, making Link's heart soar. "I noticed." He paused. "You look good in Sheikah clothes."

"You look good in dancers clothes, too," Link replied, hoping that the darkness masked the light flush that stained his ears and cheeks.

Silence fell between them again, and Link wondered whether he should voice what was on his mind. What had been on his mind since the second he'd seen Sheik take his place in the circle of dancers.

"Sheik…" Link turned his head, only to be met with a finger pressed against his lips. His voice died in his throat.

Sheik had moved as silently as ever, and was now only inches away. Link could feel his breath on his skin. A light thrill ran down his spine as Sheik leaned forward to press their foreheads together.

"Don't talk," Sheik whispered. His wine red eyes peeked through his lashes, meeting Link's own.

Slowly, he drew his finger away, and Link leaned forward without a word to close the distance between them.


	10. Mischief

**Mischief**

**Prompt: **This one was a tad different. Tumblr user Mingchee posted the headcanon below, and gave me permission to turn it into a oneshot:

_I know these are probably just gameplay gimmicks but…_

_I have a feeling that Ghirahim is somewhat unaware of Link's mischievous side. Like he underestimates Link as an insufferably noble, innocent minded boy. But then he catches wind of Link being a little shit, like breaking the chandelier at Lumpy Pumpkin, sleeping on people's beds, breaking pots, letting Pipit's mom pay him (with Pipit's money) to clean her house, and occasional sassy come backs (nice hair!) and Ghirahim absolutely adores it._

**Verse: **Skyward Sword.

**Characters: **Groose, Impa, Zelda, Link, Ghirahim.

**Pairing: **Sorta Ghiralink.

**Warnings:** Ghirahim acting like a peacock. Terms directed at the Sheikah that are intended to be slurs.

* * *

The first time he met the fabled Hero of the Sky, he was quite unimpressed. A child sent out on an adult's mission, swinging an overhyped blade as though it were a club and making bold statements about justice and righteousness.

Really, the child had no idea what he was getting himself into.

The second time they'd met, he'd honed his skills slightly. Ghirahim was amused at the valiant effort the boy had made to hold his ground, but really there was not much to him than some irksome loyalty to the little wench.

Ghirahim concluded that the boy was simply a pawn. He had innocence bordering on naivety, foolish loyalty and a nobility that made Ghirahim absolutely seethe with irritation. Of course there'd be nothing to the hero than a mindless husk of a person, because the Goddess would never allow things like _emotion_and _personality_ to linger in the souls of her tools.

Fi was a testament to that, if there ever was one.

So he'd brushed him off initially. He was just an irksome little mayfly with a misguided sense of good and evil who occasionally got in Ghirahim's way. He surmised that he probably let him live simply because the hero was just doing what he was told. It was irritating that they crossed paths so often, but not exactly the boy's fault that he was pottering around the land like a drone.

Perhaps, when all of this was done, Ghirahim could get hold of him and force some personality into him.

He was pondering that thought with a self indulgent smile as he made his way back to the Sealed Temple. His master was calling, and it was the only place they could communicate clearly thanks to that wretched seal.

The easiest way to get through there was slipping through the Temple itself. Sure, it made for an annoying confrontation with the old hag once in a while, but he otherwise had to force his way around the dense reaches of the western woodlands, and right now he was of little patience to do so.

If he could, he'd teleport straight in. Of course, the miserable old witch had used her Sheikah magic to form a barrier around the area, forcing him to get through there the primitive way.

Ugh. Walking through the forest _always_ ruined his boots.

Keeping to the shadows, Ghirahim slithered through the darkness of the temple, ignoring the two nuisances who were conversing near the altar. He was positive the witch knew he was there, but he wasn't concerned about her. Sheikah or not, she was an old woman, and her power was limited to primeval spell casting, of which he usually had the strength to overcome.

It wasn't her noticing him that made him pause, no.

It was the fugly looking redhead that caught his attention.

He was sitting with his back to Ghirahim (thankfully; Ghirahim was in no mood to lose his latest meal at the sight that atrocious face), and was talking animatedly with the old hag. His voice was so loud that even the deafest of keese would probably hear it.

"And I tell you, Grannie," he was saying, "the second that old guy told him not to, Link climbed all the way up to the banister and broke the chandelier." Both of them burst out laughing; a honking noise that made Ghirahim wince in indignation at the offensive sound.

"What a mischievous young man," the witch replied. Ghirahim furrowed a brow. Surely they weren't talking about the same Link.

"That's not even the half of it! I heard about the chandelier from the girl who lives at the Lumpy Pumpkin, and she said to pay off his debt he had to work for free, so he set about doing every single job as badly as possible until they gave up on him! I swear, I nearly cried from laughing when I found out."

Seriously. They could _not_ be talking about the same Link.

"Tell me more," the old woman said, the visible part of her face creased in a grotesque looking smile. "I enjoy hearing such stories. I always expected the boy to have an attitude about him."

"Oh man, he was telling me last time he was here, cause we were like just chillin' and all," the butchering of language made Ghirahim gnaw on his lip in irritation, "that this one guy at the Academy, he does like extra shifts and stuff to pay for his tuition right. Pipit his name is. Anyway, so he gives the money to his Mom to help her with food and stuff too, and Link tells me," he burst out honking again, "he tells me that he cleans her house for her, and she pays him using Pipit's money! I never thought he'd have it in him! I don't think he's told Pipit, but I know he still goes there and cleans anyway."

"Ah," the witch chortled, nodding with mirth. "So honourable and yet dishonourable at the same time. I knew he had that attitude about him…"

Ghirahim left the Temple into the grounds, mind reeling.

So, up in his safe little perch in the sky, the boy _did_ have some sass about him. Why had that never shown through during their exchanges? Surely he'd have had plenty of opportunities to throw impressive one-liners when they crossed paths.

Ghirahim's face twisted in distaste when he found himself somewhat _endeared_with these tales of a reckless, _naughty_ kid. Ugh.

Shoving that aside, he dropped into the pit to kneel just outside the seal, letting his consciousness be overcome by the voice of his Master.

xx

Heat, Ghirahim decided, was the worst invention in the history of creation.

_Get to the temple in the desert. The little Goddess and her Sheikah dog are heading there next._

Whose idea was it to build a temple of worship in a blasted desert? They should be strung up by the ankles and set alight.

A glimmer of memory told him that this place wasn't always a desert. He ignored it in favour of maintaining his indignation.

They were just behind the wall. Ghirahim could hear them conversing, the sound of that awful harp pricking through the dry air. Something about waiting, he surmised, but by the sound of it the Sheikah dog didn't want to hang around. Good choice.

He was about to teleport through when the sound of a delighted shriek pierced the heat.

"_Link!"_

_So much for stealth._

Ghirahim abandoned the idea in favour of a much more impressive entrance.

Summoning his power, he threw a blast of dark magic at the collapsed wall, enjoying the sight of it exploding into dust. The cry of alarm made it all the more entertaining.

Allowing himself a laugh, Ghirahim leapt through the dust, landing just before the enormous Gate. With barely a second glance, he threw up a barrier against the mayfly pricking at his heels, and turned to face the two women.

"Your Grace!" The Sheikah shouted. "Get to the gate!"

He paid no attention to what was going on around him as he flew forwards, finding himself halted by a barrier of Shadow magic.

Thoroughly irritated, he summoned his rapier and began hacking away at the barrier, enjoying how it slowly began to wilt beneath his superior strength.

With a cackle of glee, Ghirahim broke through the barrier, pausing just long enough to ready a strike that would take off the Sheikah dog's head.

Apparently, that slight pause was enough.

Sensing the movement behind him, Ghirahim leapt aside just in time to stop himself from being impaled on the mayfly's sword.

A highly undignified growl forced itself out from between his teeth, and he readied his rapier again.

"Link!" The woman was on her back, staring at him.

Ghirahim would never admit what happened next.

Instead of being that noble little _tool_ he had been all along, Link simply turned to the woman and smirked.

"Am I late?"

_Am I late…?_

In complete shock, Ghirahim could do nothing but gape (which he would deny until the day he disappeared into nothing but dust).

Of all the stupid things to say, the boy decided on a snarky quip?

Ghirahim stared at him, confusion filling him with the thoughts whirling through his head. Thoughts and feelings that irritated and sickened him rose to the surface, making him scowl and grit his teeth.

_Amusement._ He was _amused_ at the boy's attitude towards the Goddess's servant.

The rest of the short encounter passed in a haze. He managed to put up a token 'you'll regret this' to the kid, before allowing himself to disappear into the reaches of a dark, unobtrusive cave. There, he let himself brood.

So the Hero of the Sky _did _have some personality after all. Apparently, the two humans at the temple weren't talking about someone different. This kid, who spent his entire time up until now working like a drone spouting nothing but challenges at Ghirahim, was capable of a sense of humour.

And, apparently, complete disregard for the respect the Sheikah race usually commanded from the rest of the world.

It was unbelievable.

And Ghirahim _adored_ it.


	11. Selfish

**Prompt: **ghiralink | foreplay

**Verse: **Skyward Sword

**Characters: **Ghirahim, Link

**Pairing: **Ghiralink.

**Warnings: **Kinda obvious. But they don't do the full frick frak. they just kinda frak.

* * *

Humans are such strange creatures.

They can be the cruelest of beings, harsher than any demon can ever hope to be when there is desire fuelling their actions. Most demons are dim witted creatures, following orders without question.

Humans though, will not do anything they don't want to unless coerced with a particular gain on their own end, or unless they are forced into submission.

It's this knowledge of the human race that makes the little Sky Child so perplexing.

Particularly for Ghirahim.

He never does anything for his own gain. Hardly ever, anyway. Oh he has his bouts of stubbornness, sure, but they're usually justified. Such as his blatant refusal eat Mogma meat; one of Ghiahim's favourite delicacies. He's only marginally less disgusted with bokoblin meat, but that's reasonable. Bokoblins taste terrible.

But still; Link rarely puts himself first. And sometimes he does things that are outright _laughable;_ such as the entire situation he found himself in when he stumbled across Ghirahim after the final battle with the Demon King.

He hadn't even thought about the consequences of his actions when he agreed to save Ghirahim's life by binding them together. Link still insists that he doesn't mind. Says he needed a new sword anyway.

Ghirahim frowns to himself as he tries to figure the boy out. It's an indecipherable riddle; one that has more than once driven Ghirahim into trying to pry the answers from him by force. In the end though, he supposes he has to conclude that Link is just not a typical human.

He snorts as the phrase _'one of these things is not like the other'_ comes to mind.

The sound effectively jolts the perplexing little riddle beside him into wakefulness.

"Mmh?" The sleepy grunt is followed by a sigh as Link rolls onto his side, peering at Ghirahim with one half lidded eye.

"More of the same," Ghirahim says idly, reaching down to brush some of the blonde bangs out of the one blue eye he can see. "Go back to sleep. I'd rather not have you bite my head off thanks to over-fatigue."

There's a moment of silence, before Link stretches, the sheet sliding down the length of his back (in much the same way the demon's eyes are).

"Was half awake anyway," he says. "What do you mean, 'more of the same'?"

Ghirahim doesn't answer right away. He's content to watch Link roll over onto his back. While Ghirahim's own body is flawless (in his humble opinion, of course) he has zero objections to quietly enjoying the sight of the pale skin on display.

"Just that," he says, leaning forwards slightly to trail a bare, silvery finger down Link's sternum. He finds himself smirking a little at the shiver it elicits. "More of the same. Trying to figure out what makes you so noble as to want for nothing."

Link huffs, now thoroughly used to this line of questioning. "I've told you before; I'm not interested in the things you consider valuable."

"Indeed," Ghirahim replies softly, the finger trailing further down. He traces the contours of Link's stomach, watching it rise and fall with each breath. "I've never yet figured you out, Sky Child. Here I was, thinking I knew everything there was to know about humans and their selfish desires, and then you came along and threw all of that out the window."

Link's eyes are closed now, a faint tinge to his cheeks as he gnaws on the inside of his mouth. Such an _adorable_ little tic.

"I have wants," he blurts, and Ghirahim raises an eyebrow, smirk widening slightly.

"Oh really?" he murmurs, and leans down to run his teeth lightly along the slope of Link's ear. "And what," a soft bite to his jaw, "might" and again on the curve of his neck, "they be?"

"That," Link replies abruptly, already slightly breathless. "I want you to keep doing that."

"This?" the demon practically purrs as he reaches Link's collarbone. "Such a primal need, for so noble a creature like you."

"Yeah, well…" Link trails off with a soft intake of breath as the finger on his skin trails down to trace the sharp indentation of his hip. "…call me a creature of instinct then."

"And what does that instinct say right now?"

"That you need to keep going."

Ghirahim chortles at the attempt at a commanding attitude. It's always positively adorable when Link tries to exert his 'master' role. Both of them know that he never properly fits that description, but it's entertaining nonetheless.

"Mm, and if I don't?"

"I'll just have to order you to."

"Such _depravity_, Sky Child."

"Shut up and keep at it."

But Link is grinning as he says it, knowing full well how ridiculous he sounds attempting to order the Demon Lord around.

Ghirahim moves then, leaning up so he can trail his tongue along Link's ear while his hand comes to rest at a deceptively slender thigh.

"As you wish, _Master_," he breaths, and he suppresses a snort at the shiver that runs through Link at the name. He gets the same reaction every time, and it never gets boring.

Ghirahim had been surprised at first by how well Link had handled his more…_carnal_ urges the first time they'd done this. Tenderness is not in the demon's vocabulary at all, so finding Link gains pleasure from such treatment…well.

It makes things that much more satisfying.

So there are no light kisses down the length of the lithe frame beneath him. No gentle whispers or murmurs of admiration. No, Ghirahim leaves his mark quite literally: bites that trail from the junction of Link's collarbone and neck right down the length of his body where they culminate in dark welts around his hips and thighs. Link always moans deliciously every time a new mark is made on his fragile skin.

Ghirahim is a creature of flattery and vanity. He basks in every sound and movement Link makes as he wraps his long fingers around his length. They encourage him to seek more, to satiate his need for recognition at his skills. Link never disappoints.

The human positively _sings_ with every stroke, back arching deliciously as his mouth goes slack and his eyes cinch shut. To Ghirahim they aren't signs of Link's enjoyment at all; they're endorsements of the demon's skill. The louder Link is, the more willing Ghirahim is to continue with what he's doing.

They both know that Link makes those noises for that very reason.

Ghirahim trails his tongue along Link's length, watching him greedily as Link clenches his teeth with the groan that forces its way out.

"Stop teasing," Link hisses, jolting his hips slightly as Ghirahim's nails dig into his thigh. "Bastard."

Ghirahim just hums as his mouth replaces his hand.

Yes, Link is a perplexing individual when it comes to most things. But with regards to primal instinct and pleasure, he's as selfish as any other.


	12. Samaya

**Prompt: ** Sheik writing a letter to give to link after he leaves and zelda takes his place (he can be his own person or a soul or w/e, up to you!)

**Verse:** Post OOT.

**Characters: **Sheik.

**Pairing: **Shink.

**Warnings:** character death.

**Additional note:** Aspects of this fic were taken from Ryttu3k's 'The Triforce Wars'. If you like this pairing and haven't read it, go and read it. It's amazing.

* * *

_Link,_

_If you are reading this, then everything that you have worked for has finally come to pass. Unfortunately this means that I am no longer here._

_I want to explain it to you…but I don't know how. I suppose the only way for me to do so and have you understand is for me to do the one thing I always avoided doing while we were journeying together. You always told me you wanted to know more about me, so in order for this to make any sense, I've decided to finally do so._

_Please understand that there is a reason I struggled to keep this from you. I fear that when you truly know me, you will despise me. It's a risk I'm willing to take however, because I want you to know me. The real me._

_I was the third and youngest child of my parents, born in the year 344 after the great war between the goddess and the king of demons, during what is now known as the Era of Decline. I had two older sisters named Aatmaja and Majila. I was given the name Samaya. Loosely translated, it means 'Celestial music' in modern Hylian. My parents were loving and cared for us well, until we all respectively entered our tenth year._

_In Sheikahn tradition, when a child reaches ten years since birth, they undertake eight years of rigorous training to become that which the Goddesses created them to be. Until thirteen, we are all trained equally in various arts, from singing to warfare, and from then on our training is condensed into only that in which we excel. My parents were both dancers for the Hylian court, and my oldest sister Aatmaja followed in their footsteps. My second sister, Majila, became a gifted healer for the common populace. I had always hoped to be a musician; my mother always told me I had a gift for composing songs. You'll recall the songs I taught you during your journey; I wrote them myself, specifically for you. _

_Fate had other ideas for me. When I reached thirteen, it was decided I was to become a Shadow Warrior for the King's army. I never resented it, for it was the Sister's divine purpose for me._

_And so I spent five years training. A Shadow Warrior is different from an assassin (you used to call me an assassin from time to time, which is why I'm explaining it now), because we are not merely trained in the art of warfare. We learn the art of magic alongside our fighting skills. We are taught to see the Truth, whereas assassins do not and are not. _

_All Shadow Warriors are trained to cast away material, earthly attachments. It was pointless for us to have such things, because they would only hinder us. I was forced to give up music, friends, my family, and eventually my name. I became Sheik, one among countless others, all who were no longer individuals and who lived only to serve the Royal Family. _

_When I was eighteen, I was officially initiated into the cult of Shadow Warriors. You mentioned the scar on my right wrist once; the scar of the Eye of Truth. You asked me why I had that scar, and I avoided the answer. The scar was branded into my skin the night I was initiated, as a reminder that my duty in life was now nothing more than to be a Sheikah servant. A servant to the will of the Hyrulian Monarchy. _

_Many Shadow Warriors were initiated into the ranks of the military, as the final and strongest legion of fighters who ensured the protection of the Royal Family and their subjects. I was one of them at first, until an assassination attempt on the King. My role in bringing down the assassin earned me a higher honor than many Sheikah ever hope to achieve. Because the King himself witnessed my part in apprehending the assassin, he insisted I become a personal bodyguard._

_My subject was the very first Princess of Hyrule; Zelda Nohansen I. She and I were quite good friends. She often asked me to play for her, and through several studious months of work on her part, she succeeded in chipping away at some of the hard Sheikahn duty that sealed my true self. I used to play for her on my lyre; the very same one that you and I played duets on. _

_Three years after I became Zelda's bodyguard, war befell Hyrule. It was discovered that some Sheikah deserters had begun to dabble in black arts, and in doing so had facilitated the revival of a great evil. That was the time when the tear was added to the Sheikah emblem; a symbol of the betrayal of our very own brethren. _

_The King declared all Shadow Warriors be sent to eliminate the source of the evil. I was among them, despite my duty to the Princess. In the year I turned twenty one, I was sent away to fight a war that ended tragically with the Princess suffering a cursed Sleep. To my knowledge, she sleeps to this day. Suspended in time, she will never wake until one arises who is capable of breaking that curse. I don't recall where she is hidden away. The current Royal Family may very well know, however I have never asked._

_I don't recall much of my time among the Shadow Warriors. It's hazy and I suspect my unwillingness to recall it is what blocks it from me. All I know is that during that war, I was killed by a rogue Sheikah._

_When a Shadow Warrior dies, their spirit becomes locked between life and the afterlife. I was doomed to wander the river of the dead for eternity, until either released by a member of the Royal Family, or until the Sheikah race died out. But I could be recalled in times of dire need._

_The Princess you know was the fourth member of the Royal Family who recalled my spirit. Several times before her calling, I was utilised as a Shadow Warrior. I served during the Hyrulean Civil war and the Unification War, and when my duty ended I returned once more to the River of the Dead._

_She recalled me on the eve of her twelfth birthday. Her body was put to sleep in the sacred depths of the Temple of Time where it would be safe, and I became her companion for the next five years. We shared a body, though I was the one who controlled it. _

_She spent many nights mourning, but many others telling me stories of you. I knew you only as the Hero of Legend; one prophesied to bring the end of a terrible darkness and return light to the world. I considered myself the most fortunate of shadows to be able to assist in your journey, though I never wanted recognition. My duty was still foremost to protect the Princess._

_It changed, however, when I met you that first time. Zelda knew instantly, but I rejected all of her notions, as it was against my code to form such attachment. I tried to maintain my distance and keep you at arms length, but in truth I was tailing your every move. I'm sure you nearly caught me once or twice._

_When you asked me after you defeated the evil in the Lake why I never stayed, I told you it was because I was only a guide, and was sworn to never interfere with your divine purpose. __I lied._

_The truth was, I fled because I was scared. I knew what was happening, what _would_happen, and it terrified me. Everything I learned from my training was warring with my emotions, and I was at risk of breaking my own vows. _

_I don't think Zelda was ever more furious with me than she was that day. She told me it was stupid to stick to such rigid codes, that I was one of the last two Sheikah in the known realm and that I no longer had to live by the code of a dead race. _

_We didn't speak for days afterwards._

_I'll never forget the night the evil of the Shadow Temple escaped. You jumped in front of me, tried to protect me from something you couldn't see and couldn't fight. You told me it was because you cared about me. That you loved me._

_It was the night I finally admitted the Truth to myself. _

_I knew what would happen if I let it go too far. I was doomed the moment I was recalled from the River._

_You're in the Spirit Temple now. Which means our time together, my time with you, is at an end._

_When you return from the Temple, it will not be me waiting for you. Zelda is going to break the spell that binds us when the Spirit Sage has awoken. She will be wearing my clothes, but it will be her and her alone that greets you. She will tell you it was her all along, but I know that it will break your heart._

_I have asked her to give you this letter without reading it, for I fear that if she does it will never reach your hands. I'm ashamed of myself that I fear she will keep it from you, for I know that she will eventually want you to know. It's ridiculous of me to be so paranoid, but those who utilised me in the past did this same thing, and those who knew me were never aware that I actually existed. _

_It wasn't her all along. It was both of us, but me first and foremost. She told me what to say, but I made the music. I played the songs with you. I watched you grow from a child in a mans body to a true Hero. I was injured in Kakariko. I tailed you from temple to temple, anxious for your safety._

_I fell in love with you._

_Link, you have always been the Light in the Darkness. You banished the darkness in my heart and allowed me to be who I always wished to be. For those long, weary years of waiting, you were worth it. For every century I spent wandering the River of the Dead, wishing for eternal rest, you became my reason for living. And for all eternity, I will wait for you._

_Please do not come looking for me. You will not find me. I have asked one final request of the Princess; that when you finally overcome the evil that has destroyed this land, she will release me from my prison within the River. I will finally rest peacefully amongst my family and tribe, until the day we meet again in the afterlife should you choose to._

_And with this, I have one final request of you. Live. Live and enjoy life, for you may never know when it will be snatched from you. Enjoy the fruit of your labours. Love, raise a family if you wish. Know that I will be waiting for you when your old, weary soul is called to the table of the Goddesses. _

_Do not despair me. For a fleeting moment in my centuries of existence, I was truly happy, and now I am content._

_Link, I will see you again._

_Sheik Samaya._


	13. Ritual

**Prompt: T**he process of Ghirahim being bound to Link as his new master.

**Verse:** Post Skyward Sword.

**Characters: **Ghirahim, Link.

**Pairing: **If you squint.

**Warnings:** None.

**Additional note: **Written as a continuation of the Chapter 5, titled 'Fading'. See the bottom of the page for further notes.

* * *

Once an agreement was made, Link wasted no time in making the necessary preparations.

Ghirahim was already fading, far too quickly for either of their liking, and had thus demanded that the process be completed by the end of the day.

He had let his physical form dissipate into the sword, leaving only his consciousness behind. Link was unable to touch him thanks to the strange transparency that had taken hold of his body, and as such carrying the sword on it's own meant he wouldn't have to worry about where Ghirahim was or how he would move both the demon and the weapon.

Link had managed to heft the heavy sword across his back, but had to remain mindful of the razor sharp thorns protruding from the edges of the blade, as there was no sheath for the weapon. Idly, he contemplated having it reforged into something much less ostentatious and a little more practical, but he quickly dashed that thought. That would have to wait until the binding was completed, because he didn't know whether or not tempering the blade would be painful for Ghirahim.

His mind reasoned that it wouldn't be, because tempering the Master Sword seemed painless for Fi, but again, his mind reminded him of the differences between the two. Chances were Fi couldn't even feel pain.

So Link lugged the blade through the murk of the forest. It was slow going, as there was only one place in Faron that would allow the ritual to occur, and he didn't have the luxury of warping.

_Pining, Sky Child?_

Link grunted. He should have known that Ghirahim could still converse with him.

_No, I'm not pining. I'm regretting the fact that I can't warp wherever I want to any more, because you're heavy and it's a long way to the Cistern._

Soft laughter echoed through Link's mind, but he couldn't tell whether it was mocking or genuinely amused. He put it out of his thoughts.

xx

It took the better part of the day before Link finally found himself in front of the grand entrance to the Ancient Cistern. His back was aching from the weight of the sword, and his legs were growing tired. He dropped the lot unceremoniously on the ground and trudged over to gulp down mouthfuls of water from the spring, sighing in relief.

"Why are you stopping now?"

Link washed his face and shook his hair out before turning to answer.

"I need a break. Without a proper strap to hold that thing on my back, it moves around a lot."

Ghirahim was sitting beside the sword, still transparent. He was locked between forms, as he had been when Link found him, though it looked as though the blackness that decorated most of his chest and limbs was spreading. Probably not a good thing, Link surmised.

The demon snorted at his reply. "You can carry those damnable Timeshift stones around as though they're nothing, but you can't handle my sword?"

"Those things weren't as heavy," Link bit back. "And even if they were, I didn't have to lug them around all day."

"So tell me then, how are you going to wield my sword when you become it's master?"

Link didn't fail to notice the separation between the sword and Ghirahim. The demon was alluding to the fact that despite Link being the master of the _sword_, he would hold no such power over Ghirahim. Or, at least, that's what the demon wanted him to think anyway.

"I was going to ask you about that, actually," Link replied, moving over to drop down against the rocky outcrop of the cliff face. "It doesn't have a scabbard."

Ghirahim only hummed in response.

"I was going to see whether I could reshape the blade to something more practical."

The demon recoiled as though Link had said something grossly offensive to him. "And what makes you think something as ludicrous as _that_ could be achieved?"

Link shrugged. "It's a sword. It can be tempered."

"This sword is the embodiment of my very _being_," Ghirahim snarled. "If you mess with the blade, you mess with me. Or would you willingly allow someone to break and reshape your own limbs as well?"

Link fell silent. He'd suspected as much, but still. The sword was just too damn big to be anything useful to him.

"Then maybe I'm not the best person to become it's master then."

There was a pregnant pause.

"And what makes you say so, Sky Child?" Ghirahim's voice was silky in his ear, and Link jolted. The demon had moved beside him, regarding him with those strange, mismatched eyes as though issuing a challenge.

"Demise was about a hundred times my size," Link replied coolly. "He might have been able to swing you around with one arm, no sweat, but I can't. No matter how much muscle training I go through. If you want me to be the swords new master, you're either going to have to let me reshape the blade or get used to becoming a wall decoration."

A soft hiss came from behind him, and he knew he'd hit the nail on the head. Ghirahim would loathe to become a simple prop with no use, but for his sword to be wielded by anyone of normal stature, something would have to be done.

"Come on," Link snapped, breaking the silence. "Let's get under this creepy statue and get it over with."

xx

The underground levels of the Cistern were as creepy as they were the first time Link had set foot there. He didn't know what he was expecting, really, but still. The undead that refused to re-die were getting extremely irritating. Especially since Ghirahim had begun hurrying him along in his head.

_Don't follow the path you took the first time down here. There is another passage to the left._

Link followed the instructions perfectly, but was still held up by festering bokoblin corpses and cursed keese at every encounter.

At least there were no stalmasters. He'd have a hard time getting those things to drop with the sword he currently held.

_Ignore the keese, you imbecile, and stop daydreaming. There's not much time and you need to get to the chamber._

"Y'know," Link grit out as he dodged a decaying hand, "I'm going out of my way to do this for you, so the least you could do is cool the insults."

Ghirahim's laugh echoed through his head. _If you thought my disposition would change just because I'm forced to endure your company, Sky Child, you can think again._

Ugh.

Eventually, Link managed to stumble through the last winding corridor of the undead hell, and found himself in front of a set of rotted double doors. There were inscriptions on them in a language he couldn't read, but on Ghirahim's insistence he shoved them open and stepped into the chamber.

It was…plain, to say the least.

The only thing that stood out in the gloom of the stone walls was a pedestal in the floor, surrounded by more of those intricate designs.

_Put the sword in the pedestal,_ Ghirahim instructed, and Link obliged.

Rather than falling promptly onto the floor, like he thought it would, the sword stood ramrod straight, the red jewel in the hilt emitting a soft glow.

"It's relatively simple," came Ghirahim's voice as he materialised beside the sword. "I need to swear an oath to be your servant until either of our deaths, and then you recite the incantation I taught you on the way here."

Link swallowed at the mention of their deaths. 'Until death do us part' jumped into his head at the thought, and he cleared his throat with a nod.

He felt a little dazed at the sight in front of him. Ghirahim hissed and allowed the tendrils of his sword form overrun the pallid skin of his body. The last time Link had seen him like this, Ghirahim was pretty set on killing him properly dead. And yet here he was, in front of him.

Bowing.

Thrice, it would have been hilariously ironic if it wasn't so terrifying.

Holding his position in the eerie bow, hand over the diamond in his chest, Ghirahim began to speak in a language Link had never heard before.

"_N'uvā iknùstil seth ir'oth," _the language was harsh and bitter sounding, and it raised chills on Link's neck and spine.

"_N'uvā kalos'ith seth mênket. _

_N'uvā w'eniš'et seth din'ešut mor._

_Ma'ri mãrãas."_

As Ghirahim spoke, the designs on the stone floor began to emit a deep red light, growing brighter with each line he spoke. Link had no idea what he was saying, save for two words, but it looked like a spell of some kind. The final two words of his oath sounded eerily like the words Fi had once used to refer to him when she spoke.

Ghirahim straightened and pressed his hands over the diamond glowing brightly in his chest. He paused for a second, eyes closed, and then withdrew. As he did so, a dark aura was drawn from the diamond, and it seemed to pull all the darkness of his skin away with it. The black armour on his arms and legs retreated in metric patterns, centring around the diamond as he held his arms straight out before him.

"Step into the circle," Ghirahim instructed, "and hold your hands out."

Link was dubious. When Ghirahim had said it was simple, he'd expected something like the ritual he had performed with Fi, where he simply held the sword aloft and infused it with the power of the goddess.

This was something else, and it felt dark.

His mind and emotions warred, and for a fleeting moment he contemplated backing out altogether. But then he remembered his reasoning for doing it. They were both at the whim of a higher power when Ghirahim was his enemy (when did he stop being such, he wondered briefly) and neither of them deserved to die for simply carrying out their orders.

So Link squared his shoulders and stepped into the circle of red light, doing as he was instructed. The darkness between Ghirahim's hands pulsed slightly, and Link felt the strange resemblence of a heartbeat between his fingers as they closed around it.

"Recite the spell."

Link swallowed, took a breath, and then spoke.

"_Eri __mãrãas seth kâ'niluteth_

_mor sin'uva linuteth roh'un_

_en'ïl makar'un mor eli s'unirik_

___eri __mãrãas kaśi sor noh'un a'linuteth."_

As soon as the spell was complete, the light around them grew blinding. A whistling noise picked up in Link's ears, and he felt the dark pulsing between his hands dissipate. Power flowed through his veins, causing his breath to hitch at the sensation, but it was not his own. It mingled with his, causing the triforce mark on his hand to glow, and for a moment he was afraid it would take over and force him into submission. But the power of the triforce warred it into submission, and it faded to a low glimmer.

Everything fell silent. For a moment, Link kept his eyes closed, familiarising himself with the new sensation in his body. It felt like a heartbeat beating in sync next to his own. There was new power rippling through his blood, but he instinctively knew that it was his to control.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and stared at the spot in front of him.

The sword was gone.

Link whipped his head from side to side, suddenly afraid that it had failed and something disastrous had occurred. Had he not said the spell correctly? Ghirahim had made him recite it about a thousand times to be absolutely _sure _he got it right, and it seemed like he had. But where was he?

His answer came when a footstep sounded behind him, and he turned to meet it.

There, complete with his ridiculous red mantle, stood Ghirahim. He looked exactly the same as he had when Link had first met him in Skyview Temple, sans the deadly rapiers. Ghirahim's eyes glinted in the semi-darkness, and a smile pulled itself slowly across his pale lips.

Link stared.

Without missing a beat, Ghirahim placed one hand on his chest and swooped low into a bow, but he did so in _just _such a way that Link couldn't tell if he was mocking him or not.

"It is done," he said, voice as smooth as ever. _"Master._"

* * *

_Translation (roughly) of the incantations are as follows:_

_Ghirahim: I am a sword, A sword requires a wielder, a sword is bound to its master. My master is Link._

_Link: I am Link, and this sword is mine to command. Until it shatters under my touch or until my death, it is bound to me, and it's power is mine._


End file.
